Expectations
by NeoNails
Summary: Warren/Layla. Something that never happened in the Disney version of the movie, but should have. Not to mention the consequences of these actions. Sometimes changing your mind can be a good thing.
1. Backing Out

I don't know why I bother to start stuff I know, nine times out of ten, I'm not going to bother to finish. It's such a freakin' dumb idea to start anything else up again. And yet, here I am once more, about to start another dead-end storyline. Crap.

The way I figure it, since everyone else has done something like this at some point, I might as well try, too. I can't guarantee it'll be any good, but here's to that.

$4$

_I'm sick of picking up pieces  
__And second-guessing my reasons  
__Why you don't trust me- why must we do this to one another?  
__We are just passionate lovers, with trouble under the covers  
__Nothing worse when you know that it's over._

-"Little of Your Time," by Maroon 5

**

* * *

**

Asking Warren Peace to Homecoming had been a really, really bad idea.

It took her about 24 hours to figure out as much, and a few more to be stricken with paralyzing guilt. Never, for one single solitary second, did she ever consider that Warren might've wanted to take someone- as in, someone he was actually _attracted_ to- to Homecoming. It was so selfish of her, and Layla was never selfish.

Even though, with every fiber of her being, Layla did not want to have to explain to Will why she _wasn't_ going to Homecoming with Warren Peace, she had to back out. It was only right. This lie she was telling- it just wasn't right, and dragging Warren along for the ride wasn't fair. Under his brooding exterior, she knew he was a nice guy, and she never should've pushed him into this fake-relationship. It was only for the best that she break this off clean now, before the rumor mill _really _got into full swing.

School had just started, which meant she had approximately five minutes before homeroom started, but Mr. Boy was usually pretty nice about getting to class earlier, which probably gave her an extra two or three more minutes. That was more than enough time to talk to Warren and get this whole huge mess sorted out.

Warren was a sophomore and in a different grade than Layla, which meant his lockers were in a different hallway than hers, near Medulla's class and on the other side of the high school. It took a minute or two of maneuvering through the throngs of students before she could finally locate Warren, stuffing a textbook, a few notebooks, and a ratty and well-read paperback into his equally ratty and well-used messenger bag.

Most of the Sky High population avoided Warren, and it was twice as obvious as he stood in front of his locker. All around him, his classmates were giving him unusually wide berth, almost like there was an invisible five-foot barrier surrounding him. It made talking to him significantly easier.

"Warren?" she asked, her voice soft.

He didn't bother to turn around. "Whaddya want, hippie?" He slammed his locker door shut, and turned to face her, his face a mask of impatience and barely contained annoyance.

Layla took a deep breath, mentally preparing herself for the little speech she had rehearsed in her head the night before. "I'm sorry, Warren," she said, twisting her fingers in the fabric of her crocheted hemp sweater. "I never should have pressured you into going to Homecoming with me. And for kind of tackling you out on the steps, and calling you cutie… and just basically dragging you into this whole dramatic mess." She took a breath, well aware that her face was on fire and while she had worn her hair down this morning, her long red locks were doing a sorry job of hiding her blush.

She shut her eyes and screwed up her face, running her hands through her hair nervously- an old habit she had picked up from Will long ago- and continued, "Listen, the point is, I'm sorry I made you pretend to be my Homecoming date. That wasn't fair of me, especially if you were planning on taking someone else, and really? I should just be honest with Will, and with myself. There was no reason for me to take you along for the ride."

Warren stared at her, and for a millisecond, Layla considered turning on her heel and sprinting away. It wasn't that she was afraid of Warren, per se; she was afraid of his reaction to her. She was more confident two days ago, when she all but demanded that he go with her to Homecoming. Now, when she was trying to respectfully back out, she was terrified.

He only raised his eyebrows, unimpressed. "That it?" he asked, his voice deep- at least an octave and a half lower than Will's, whom she wondered sometimes, in fits of pique, if his voice had ever actually broke.

Even still, Warren's question threw her for a loop. He sounded so confident, almost bored- like he knew she was going to try something like that, and already had a response ready to go. She gnawed on her bottom lip, unsure. That was all she had planned to say. She figured Warren would just roll his eyes, tell her to stop talking to him, and admit to her he had never intended on actually showing up to Homecoming. She was prepared for that callous reaction. But this? This, she had never so much as considered.

He sighed, the noise low and gravelly and not entirely unpleasant to hear. "I figured you say as much at some point," he said, leaning against his locker and looking annoyed. "You're just too nice sometimes, you know that, hippie? You try too hard. That's why I assumed you'd come up to me at some point and try to back out of this cockamamie plan you thought up."

Layla couldn't say anything. For the life of her, she couldn't think up a single solitary thing to say in response. This was just… too Twilight Zone.

Warren broke eye contact for a split second, then looked back at her. "You still want to make Stronghold squirm, don't you?"

Well, it was a lot more complex than that. She didn't want to make him 'squirm' but, then again, she didn't particularly mind those looks of shock and betrayal mixed with (possible?) hints of jealousy he always sent her way whenever she talked to Warren. She just wanted her best friend to see her as something more than a best friend.

But Warren was waiting for a response, so she just sighed a little to herself and said, "Yeah, kind of."

He smirked. It was that same smirk- the one he'd flashed at the lunch table two days ago, a broad grin showing off perfect white teeth and with a smidge of challenge- that had made her stomach clench and her body tense. "Good," he said, looking at her with dark, almost black eyes. If possible, his voice was even lower than it had been moments before.

Layla opened her mouth to ask what he meant, but she realized he was looking over her shoulder again- at what, she wasn't sure. She was going to turn around to see when he stepped away from the lockers and towards her, reaching out and grabbing the back of her neck and pulling her to him.

Oh.

_Oh_.

It took a few seconds to sink in, but eventually Layla realized that this was a kiss. This was he first kiss, to be exact. Warren Peace was kissing her, and it could be safe to say she could feel it all the way down to her toes. If this was what all kisses felt like, she would die one happy woman.

His hand tangled in her hair, and involuntarily, she found herself moving her hands from where they had been glued to his shoulders, one tracing the lines of his strong jaw, and other bunching the fabric of his worn leather jacket.

She felt his hand- the one not permanently attached to the back of her skull (not that she was complaining)- slide down, settling at the small of her back, just inches from the tops of her jeans, a sensation that caused a shiver to run the length of her spine. She didn't even like Warren romantically, and yet, this felt really right.

But, like all good things, this one had to come to end, which it did. Warren removed his hand from her hair and stepped away, and she instantaneously regretted the loss of warmth.

Layla licked her lips, and tried not to notice how his gaze flickered down to her mouth before looking back up at her eyes. She also tried to compose herself by running her hand through her hair, no doubt making it look even more tousled than it had been moments before.

"Umm," she began, searching for the words- any words- that she might use to vocalize this latest catastrophe. "I- uhh- you- what were we talking about again?"

Warren smirked at her again, and this time, her stomach didn't just clench. It did a series of flip-flops and somersaults that would make any cheerleader green with envy. He looked over her shoulder one last time, and his smirk grew a little wider and a little cockier at what he saw.

Distantly, Layla recalled trying to see what Warren was staring at (and being rewarded with that mind-blowing kiss for her efforts), and finally turned around to see what was the matter.

Across the hall, Gwen was busily chatting with tons of other seniors, generally acting like the Queen of the Sky High Universe everyone knew her to be. Holding her hand was her adorable freshman boyfriend, Will Stronghold.

He had seen the whole thing unfold.

And he looked absolutely, 100-percent crushed.

Layla couldn't keep the look of surprise off her face, but knew better than to drop the charade now. Instead, she pulled together what she hoped was a sweet and completely oblivious to her best friend's inner torture smile, and waved. It was a shame they didn't give out Oscars to liars, because, at this point, she'd be a shoo-in.

Turning very slowly back to Warren, Layla regarded him with a new perspective. Smiling slightly, she tilted her head in the direction of Mr. Boy's class just as the bell rang and asked, "Mind walking a girl to class?"

He didn't respond, just walked in the direction she'd motioned. Layla smiled, knowing full-well that they had just passed the door to his class, and smiled a little wider when they passed Will. He still looked lost and confused, a little bit like a puppy that had just peed on the carpet but didn't understand why everyone was mad.

That wasn't a very romantic thing for Layla to think about Will. In fact, it was pretty damn unromantic. Which was out of character for her, but now wasn't time to dwell on it.

As she walked down the hallway with Warren, she couldn't help but notice the odd looks. Who would have ever put the Hippie and the Hothead together? She knew that the rumor mill was sure to be ablaze by the end of the day.

Layla was silent as they walked through the hallways, a small smile still on her face. When they reached the door to Mr. Boy's classroom, she made an instinctive move to keep on walking. Warren stayed in stride, even though he knew as well as she did that that was the Hero Support classroom.

She didn't know how long it took, but eventually the crowds of students thinned out to only a few trickles of very late students. Eventually, they were the only two students left in the hallways, still wandering around with no set destination.

Layla had never skipped a class before, so she more than slightly afraid that one of the teachers would stick her head out the door and demand that they get to class. When no teacher mysteriously appeared, Layla was able to relax and enjoy the stroll.

For a long time, neither person said a word. Layla was comfortable around Warren, something that she was surprised to acknowledge. She didn't want to break this comfortable moment they were sharing- it reminded her of that night at the Paper Lantern, when she spilled her guts out to him, just because he was willing to listen.

After several minutes, Layla glanced over at Warren. "Thank you," she said, dropping the smile. "For going through with this even though you're not all that crazy about me and this was really only another tactic to get under Will's skin. I really appreciate it, even though this is all one big lie."

Warren smirked, and she felt the same somersaults once more. "Don't be so hard on yourself, hippie," he said, staring out at the end of the hallway. Pretty soon, they were going to reach a dead end where the hallway met the gymnasium doors and they would have to turn around.

"I'm not trying to be self-deprecating, Warren," she said, tucking her hair behind her ears. Around Will, she never used words like 'self-deprecating,' because she was always met with a blank face. In fact, she dumbed down her language a lot when she was around Will. But with Warren, she knew he was well-read, and had no problem tossing around 'big' words, confident he would understand her.

"You're not that terrible of company," Warren said, and Layla smiled to herself. Sure, he had admitted it rather grudgingly, but the sentiment was there all the same. "You can be a bit of a pain sometimes, though."

She laughed. She didn't mean to, but he had that effect on her. "How's that?" she asked, staring at the gym doors. A few more feet, and they would have to stop.

Warren didn't answer. "Remind me again why you like Stronghold so much?"

He had never officially asked her why she had fallen for Will. The timing was suspicious, but she rolled with it. "I'm not sure," she admitted, finally looking over at him. "Will's just been a part of my life for so long I wasn't sure what I without him."

"Wasn't?" Warren repeated, stopping less than a foot for the door.

Layla stopped, too, but mostly in confusion. "Wasn't?" she asked. "I said, I'm not sure what I could do without him."

"No, you said, I _wasn't_," Warren replied, raising his dark eyebrows and smiling tauntingly. "As in, past tense?"

Layla blinked several times. She had said 'I'm' not 'wasn't,' she was almost sure of it. Looking up into Warren's dark, confident eyes, she wasn't so sure.

"I'm not sure what I meant," she finally admitted, her voice not much lower than a whisper. Internally, her brain was reminding her that this wasn't right. She shouldn't be standing in the middle of an empty hallway in the middle of class, with Warren Peace, thinking things she should not have been thinking about Warren Peace. Like how when he kissed her she felt this overwhelming urge to sigh, and when she looked into his eyes she felt he knees go weak, and when she saw that stupid smirk of his her stomach turned into a pile of knots, and when she heard his voice…

None of this made sense. Not that it really mattered, in the end. Because she was standing in an empty hallway with one smokin' hot (to excuse the pun) pyrokinetic and her thoughts were on anything but her best friend next door.

Maybe she wasn't as much of a nice girl as she'd thought.

There was a long moment of staring, and Layla knew she was leaning closer, even if he wasn't. But, he was, and she could feel his warm breath on her cheek and her eyes were just beginning to flutter close for the second time that day and-

"Whoa! Didn't realize I was interrupting something!"

In unison, Layla and Warren whipped their heads around in the direction of the voice. Zach was standing at the juncture between the two hallways, probably heading off to use the bathroom.

Sonofa-!

Layla stopped herself from thinking any more of those thoughts and waved slightly as Zach spun around, backtracking to the classroom, his face bright red.

There was one, two… exactly six moments of awkward silence that passed, until Layla gave up all her pretences and turned back to Warren. "Well, we should probably get to class now," she said, wishing she could have just five more minutes to see where that moment was going.

"That'd probably be a good idea," he said, and Layla tried to keep the disappointment from her expression.

They reached her classroom first, a slow trek that had been punctuated by one very long, uncomfortable silence. Before they reached the open door, Layla slowed to a halt and grabbed Warren's arm so he would do the same.

"Even though you did kind off kiss me in front of half the sophomore and junior classes, along with a dozen or so more seniors, I'm still giving you one last chance to back out," Layla said, whispering so Mr. Boy wouldn't hear her.

Warren smirked That Smirk. "What?" he asked. "And miss seeing that look on Stronghold's face one last time?"

For once in her life, Layla smirked back. She felt like she was keeping a big secret, and they were both coconspirators. In a way, that much was true. She just never expected to feel such a thrill when it happened.

Warren turned away, and without thinking, Layla pulled him back one last time and planted a soft kiss on his cheek. Feeling significantly more flirty than usual, Layla walked backwards towards the door. "Thanks, Hothead," she said, and winked.


	2. Getting Distracted

I'll be honest with you. THIS WAS ONLY SUPPOSED TO BE _TWO CHAPTERS LONG_. But nooooo, you guys had to write some seriously, amazingly awesome reviews and of course I see all the great things you guys have to say about me and I start to feel guilty.

So, of course, I can't settle for two friggin' chapters.

Grumbles…

Anyway, no matter what, this isn't ending _quite_ like it did in the movie. But, because this is going to continue on into more than just two chapters, you have the fortune of getting to read lots and lots (and lots) barely repressed sexual tension. Which means several more nights where I'll be spent awake until, like, 5 in the morning. Nghhh.

YOU ALL HAD BETTER LOVE ME.

$4$

_We could spend some time together  
__What he has he'll never know  
__Your boyfriend gives you no respect  
__And I can see you gettin' it  
__So figure it out and let's go_

-"Figure It Out" by Maroon 5

**

* * *

**

Lunch was an interesting affair.

And by interesting, Layla was filled with tension, apprehension, anticipation, and this undesirable, inexplicable urge simultaneously scream and tackle Warren to the ground. Because, of course, the second she picked out a suitable lunch- Caesar salad, sans chicken, plus a bottle of water and an apple- she plopped her tray down on the same she'd been sitting at for the past two days. Warren's 'bad boy' table.

Luckily, Magenta was already sitting at the table, so diffused any possibly awkward conversations. Not that Warren would be having any awkward conversations with her, she would be the one making a fool out of herself. Sure, she had that earlier moment of confidence or flirty-ness or whatever it was, but for the most part, she was pretty timid. Hence being madly in love with her best friend for almost her entire life and him never noticing a thing.

Unluckily, Zach was there as well, still fawning all over her purple-clad friend. However, after the little incident he witnessed (or, rather, _didn't_ witness), Zach was notably reserved about the whole thing. Granted, he did blush scarlet when he met her eyes, but otherwise he didn't bring it up.

Actually, it was Magenta that brought up The Kiss. By this time, Ethan had already taken his spot next to Warren, and they had carried on as though nothing had happened; Ethan was quizzing Zach on their upcoming Hero Support Utility Belt test, and Warren was pointedly ignoring them all and reading his latest paperback- this one was by Frederick Nietzsche. There were a few moments when she was almost positive he made some very stealthy glances over at her, but it would last less than a second and each time she was left staring and wondering if she was hallucinating.

Magenta seemed to notice whatever was going on between the two, or maybe she just felt curious, because she suddenly asked, "So, how pissed was Will when he spotted you two making out?"

Layla's entire body froze in place. Magenta hadn't asked the question loudly, but, in true Magenta fashion, she had said it just blunt enough that everyone at the table had to stop and pause.

"Oh, he was pretty pissed," Warren said, after a lengthy silence passed. He never actually looked up from his book, but Layla could tell from his tone alone that he was pretty damn amused.

"Wait, is she- are you joking?" Ethan asked, looking from Magenta to Warren to Layla and back again.

Layla inhaled deeply and breathed out slowly through her nose. "She's being serious," she replied, sending Magenta her best 'I'm-going-to-deal-with-you-later' glare. "It was only to get Will jealous, or at least notice me more."

Zach's eyebrows furrowed, and he looked at her like she had suddenly grown a second head. "Wait- but what about- ?" he left the question dangling in the air, then added, "There was no one in the hallway."

Magenta snorted. "Hardly," she said, spearing a forkful of Tex-Mex salad. "They kissed in front of half the upperclassmen. That's the only reason I know. I overheard that Cheerbimbo, Penny, and the ice queen, what'shername-"

"Jennifer Frost," Warren replied, still not looking up from his book.

"Right," Magenta said, with a nod. "Yeah, she's a sophomore, too. Anyway, they were gossiping about some freshman who actually had the nerve to hook up with Destruct-o Boy over here. I eavesdropped a little and it turned out they were talking about Layla, of all people."

Zach's eyebrows were still furrowed together, and, if possible, he looked even more confused than before. "But, wait," he said, still staring at Layla, "I thought you said this was in a crowded hallway?"

Magenta raised her eyebrows impatiently. "They were," she replied slowly, as if she was talking to a three-year-old. "That's why everyone saw them."

"But-" Zach began, then shook his head like a dog, almost as if he was trying to clear his head. "Dude."

For the first time during the conversation, Layla purposely sought out Warren's eyes. He actually looked up from his captivating book, and they locked gazes for several seconds, silently communicating.

Layla thanked the Gods, because that was the last of the conversation. She knew Zach suspected there was more to it than he was just being told, but he was smart enough to not question anything else, at least not as far as Warren was concerned.

Before she knew it, lunch was over and they were all throwing out their garbage and heading to their lockers. Before she could quite make it to the door, someone grabbed her upper arm and stopped her in her tracks.

It was Will.

"Layla," he said, "I think we need to talk."

She knew better than to concede to his trick. She smiled brightly, and said, "Oh, hi, Will. How are you? I feel like we haven't talked it forever."

That was, at least, partly true. The last time they had spoken was the day before, when she got angry because he kept demanding to know why she chose to go with Warren Peace to Homecoming.

"I want to talk to you about Warren Peace," Will said, staring at something over her shoulder.

Layla turned around, and, sure enough, Warren was standing by the door, leaning against the wall and calmly waiting for them to finish their conversation. Pretending as though nothing out of the ordinary was going on, Layla smiled and waved at Warren.

"So what's wrong with Warren?" Layla asked, turning back to face Will.

"It's just… I don't think it's a very good idea for you to date Warren."

…_What?_

Blinking, Layla replied, "I'm sorry?" she said, her eyebrows knitting together suspiciously. "You don't want me to date Warren? Why?"

"He's not good for you."

"And who is?"

"I don't know." Will kept glancing over his shoulder, where Gwen was still talking to three Pennies and Jennifer Frost. They were all laughing, but every few seconds Gwen would look over and stare at Will's back. "How about Ethan? He's nice."

It was really hard for Layla to not start sputtering. "Ethan?" she repeated. "You want me to date _Ethan_." For the first time in a long time, Layla really and truly considered clocking Will. He was supposed to be jealous, not recommending better boyfriends (that weren't him)!

This was just preposterous. And frustrating. And… and stupid! When was Will just going to figure it out! Instead, he was just being blind and _dumb_.

Layla opened her mouth to say something, anything, but all that came to mind was a series of highly inappropriate expletives and verbal threats. She shut her mouth, turned on her heel, and headed straight for the door.

"What'd Stronghold want?" Warren asked, staying close to her side as they made their way down the packed hallway.

Now that Will was safely out of earshot, Layla was free to rant. "He didn't think my dating you was a 'good idea,'" she said, using air quotes and rolling her eyes. "He suggested I go out with Ethan instead. It's like he wasn't even interested in me dating. Just me dating _you_."

Warren shrugged noncommittally. "That's something, isn't it?"

"It's only something if he wants to date _you_," Layla snapped back, frustrated. She reached her locker, and stopped. "I'm sorry," she said, "I didn't mean to bark at you. I just wish he wasn't so…"

"Friggin' stupid?" Warren offered, flashing The Smirk that caused her stomach to tighten and twist not in an unpleasant manner.

Layla sighed, yanking open her locker door after entering the combination. "That's probably a good description," she replied, pulling out her stack of notebooks and textbooks. She shut her locker and glanced over at him. "You know, I'm really wondering why I'm even bothering. He's obviously too dense to catch on."

Warren tilted his head to the left and asked, "You still wanna get under his skin?"

She didn't even have to think about it. "Oh, absolutely," she said and stepped closer. She knew Will was probably watching, but that didn't stop her. She leaned forward, cupped his jaw, and pressed a light kiss to his lips.

Unlike earlier, this kiss was gentle, and soft, and sweet, and a bunch of other words that Layla never would've connected with Warren Peace. When she pulled back after a few seconds, she was still left with that same giddy, butterflies-in-your-stomach feeling, but it came with a wave of relief, almost as if she was finally taking a deep breath of air after being under water for a minute.

She smiled softly up at Warren, and then remembered she wasn't doing this because she wanted to; she was doing this to get Will jealous. If she kept this up, she was going to start making some really dumb decisions.

"Are you working at the Paper Lantern tonight?" she asked, finally risking a glance over at Will. He looked absolutely stricken, and if she wasn't still angry with him, she might've considered talking to him one last time.

"I work every weeknight," he replied, leaning away, almost as if he needed room to breathe. "But Stronghold's not gonna be there."

Maybe it was because of the kiss(es), maybe it was because of their proximity, or maybe it was just because she knew him a lot more than he knew, because she knew Warren was just stating a fact. He was asking a question.

Did she still want to spend time with him, even if Stronghold (Will) wasn't there to witness it?

Layla rolled her eyes and smiled gently, trying not to laugh. "I don't mind," she said, "You're my friend. I like spending time with my friends."

She gave him an answer right back. She liked him, regardless of whether or not Will was there, and she was going to bother him all night if that was what he wanted.

If he couldn't figure it out on his own, she flat out refused to have to explain it to him.

But Warren wasn't Will. He was perfectly able to connect the dots without her having to spell it out. It was almost a comfort when he flashed The Smirk one last time and replied, "I'll see you then, hippie."

Layla clutched the books to her chest and for a few moments that wistful smiled reappeared as her stomach did a series of complicated back flips. But then, the bell rang and she was snapped out of her bizarre reverie and forced to trudge back to class as though nothing had happened.

**

* * *

**

Today's lesson in Mr. Boy's Hero Support class was spent in gym, going over proper etiquette and reactions when your Super is in trouble. One big load of horse manure, in Layla's opinion, but she would never tell that to poor Mr. Boy. He loved his job far too much, and she liked him too much to ever be so intentionally cruel.

They were supposed to pair up and go over Super/Hero Support reenactments, but everyone quickly lost interest in the cheesy, 1980s-era dialogue and started talking about the two hottest topics this week- Homecoming and Warren's girlfriend.

From the gossip, it sounded like most people didn't know who she was, which explained why none of her fellow freshmen in Hero Support ever asked her about it. That was somewhat of a relief.

However, Magenta knew something was up, and she wasn't letting go.

"Listen, Lay, maybe Will's got the right idea," she said, dropping the Sidekick 101 textbook and all pretences of pretending she was working. "Maybe it's better that you and Warren stop hanging out."

Layla just stared. There wasn't much else she could think of doing. "What do you mean?" she bleated, her voice rising just a little too high. When she noticed her classmates staring, she grabbed Magenta's arm and turned, so they were no longer facing their audience. "Warren's the closest shot I have to finally getting Will's attention!"

"I know that," Magenta said, defensive. "But I think you need to consider this further. Layla, you're smart, but this… this isn't a smart idea. This is the kind of thing where people start getting hurt."

For a few moments, Layla had to pause and take in the sincerity and depth of Magenta's statement. Magenta could be slightly abrasive at times, and had a habit of speaking with a little too much honesty and not quite enough pleasantness. But this was out of character, and very appreciated.

"No one's going to get hurt," Layla said, smiling slightly. "And it's not going to last much longer, anyway. Homecoming is a week from now."

"It takes a lot less longer for things to change and people to get hurt," Magenta replied, crossing her arms over her chest. When Layla didn't immediately reply, she dropped the stance and regarded her friend with a different view. "Or have you already noticed things changing? Because that's one of the first signs."

Did the flip-flop in her stomach count as something that changing? What about that smile that kept appearing on her face? She was sure of the answer, but she knew better than to ask Magenta, lest she had to face up with something she wasn't yet ready to come to terms with.

That might've been another sign, too.

Layla nodded, but finally just smiled and shrugged. At this point, there wasn't much else she could do now. There was no point turning back, unless she wanted even more gossip to swarm around her. "Don't worry," she said, her voice gentle. "Warren's not going to get hurt. He's too strong for that."

Mr. Boy called to them to get back to their classroom, and as Layla walked away, she could've sworn she heard Magenta say something. Something that sounded a lot like, "I wasn't talking about Warren getting hurt."

But she must have imagined that.

**

* * *

**

As usual, the Paper Lantern was packed when she walked in. For a Wednesday night, in the middle of a nonexistent city called Maxville, this little, family-owned Chinese restaurant had a lot of customers.

For the first time in her life, Layla wasn't one of them.

She ordered a tray of vegetarian dumplings (with a side of sugar snap peas and carrots) and a glass of iced tea. She mostly ordered the food so she could so something to pass the time.

Warren moved from table to table, deftly picking up plate after plate and wiping up any spilt messes before anyone could really register them as messes. In between that, of course, he checked on refills. And in between that, every girl in the room, from 13 to about 35 swooned over him.

It was really amusing to watch, for a bystander's point of view. The pretty and confident ones would bat their eyelashes and try to start up flirty banter, but never get anywhere with it. The shy ones would turn bright red and giggle as soon as he left. And he wasn't effected by any of it.

It was wholly possible that Warren was just being mean, and ignoring all of the women that glanced his way. But Layla didn't believe that. Just by watching his relaxed posture, the way he kind of smiled at the repeat customers and patience with the old ones. Warren had been working at the Lantern for so long, she had the sneaking suspicion he completely tuned out when women started hitting on him.

A few minutes later, he headed over to her table and smiled. Not The Smirk, even though she did appreciate it, but an actual smile. It was nice to see that much from him.

"Hey," she said, talking softly, and she was reminded of the last night she spent at the Paper Lantern, when she was first introduced to Warren Peace.

The Smirk reappeared, and with it, the stomach gymnastics. "Hey," he repeated, quirking a dark brow.

Layla glanced down at her mostly eaten dumplings, then nodded at the table he had just visited. "You know that girl was trying to flirt with you, right?" she asked, leaning forward conspiratorially.

Warren rolled his eyes and dropped The Smirk. "Very funny, hippie," he said, glancing once over his shoulder to make sure no one was paying attention, then sinking down in his seat across from her.

"I'm being serious," she protested, pushing her plate towards him. He gratefully took a dumpling, the last one, and popped it into his mouth whole. Layla wrinkled her perky nose in disgust, but didn't comment. Will had done (and eaten) grosser things in front of her and she had never said a word.

"You know, if you stopped being so angry and growly all the time, you would have no problem getting an actual girlfriend," Layla said, absentmindedly watching all the pairs of female eyes glued to Warren's square jaw as he chewed and swallowed the food. "And by girlfriend, I don't mean someone like me, who doesn't have enough of a spine to actually ask out the guy she likes and is now resorting to underhanded trickery in the hopes that he might feel guilty and/or jealous and finally forget all about Gwen Grayson and-"

"Enough!" Warren demanded, placing a flat hand on the table and snapping her out of her never-ending ramble. "Jesus, you talk a lot, you know that?"

Layla smiled bitterly and rubbed her forehead. "I guess I still feel guilty. I'm not like this. I don't go out of my way to make anyone's life miserable."

"Until today," Warren said, and The Smirk came right back.

"Right," she agreed, trying valiantly to ignore the twists in her abdomen, "Until today. Which I still can't believe happened. Twice. I really am a terrible best friend."

Warren glanced over at the other tables and slid out of the booth. "Yeah," he agreed, "But you're not trying to be his best friend anymore."

After that, Layla couldn't do much other than stare at her empty plate and wonder if maybe it was for the best that she and Will stay best friends.

$4$

In my humble opinion, this is one sorry-ass ending, but right now my computer is clocking this at 9 pages and just under 3,200 words, and I really don't feel like starting another scene so this is all you're gonna get.

In case anyone's wondering, this will veer off from the ending of the movie (as if you can't already tell). In fact, I'm pretty damned sure it won't include Homecoming at all. I already started the last chapter, way back when this was only supposed to be TWO CHAPTERS LONG, so I know how I want to end it. However, after some consideration, I will be including the Party at the Strongholds' scene, with a better explanation of why Layla would be walking outside all alone in the middle of the night.

And I might have her take her frustrations out afterward on Warren. ;) You never know…

Anyway, it's 12:50 and I have to be up tomorrow at 6, so… hope you like it!


	3. Changing Minds

You guys are sooo super nice. I love you all, even though you're just making me do more work. Damn it all to hell…

Now, here's my lovely little take on the before and after Evil Gwen scene (I'm not gonna bother with actually writing out the Evil Gwen scene… mostly because I'm too lazy to find the manuscript again and do the extra work of tying Warren in- sorry).

$4$

_You build me up, knock me down  
__Provoke a smile, make me frown  
__You are the queen of runaround  
__You know it's true_

- "Shiver," by Maroon 5

**

* * *

**

Layla wound up staying (again) until closing at the Paper Lantern. Warren was actually chivalrous enough to offer to walk her home, and she was stunned enough to say yes.

Will's house was next to hers. She would have to pass it to walk to the Lantern, and then pass it again on the way back. Usually, after she had dinner there, she would stop by Will's to see how he was doing, or even just to say hello to Mr. and Mrs. Stronghold. Layla always loved to visit their house because everything was so clean and neat and comforting. Even though Mrs. Stronghold couldn't keep a plant alive to save her life, everything else in her home was just so warm and loving.

Tonight, as she and Warren walked down the street, she slowed down significantly when she spotted Will's house. The house was practically pulsating with loud, obnoxious dance music, and through the dimmed lights of the window, she could see people- a lot of people- milling around.

Layla turned to face Warren and raised her eyebrows. "Looks like something's going on," she said.

Warren eyed her. "Do you wanna drop by?" he asked, and she could tell he was fighting to keep The Smirk off his face.

She glanced back at the house, twisting her mouth as she considered her options. "Maybe just for five minutes," she replied, facing him. "To see what's going on."

He flashed The Smirk at her, and she felt her stomach automatically begin to knot and twist a sensation that she was beginning to grow used to, and even enjoy. With that tightening, she felt something else that she recognized pretty easily: anticipation.

She was anticipating the look on Will's face when she made out with her pseudo-boyfriend in his own home. Nothing better than rubbing salt in the wound.

A small, insignificant part of her pointed out that maybe, just maybe, she was anticipating kissing Warren, not so much the look on Will's face when he saw them. But that was preposterous, because she was in love with Will, so there was no reason for her to anticipate anyone else's kiss.

As they walked up to the front porch, Warren leaned over and whispered in her ear, "Now, when we go in here, I don't want you to drink anything. Just because this is your best friend's house doesn't mean there aren't going to be villains-in-training in there. Don't lose focus."

Layla tried to absorb everything that Warren was telling her, but she was finding it extremely hard to pay attention when his mouth was so close to her ear and she could feel the heat of his breath against her neck. It was very distracting, and just made the anticipation in her belly increase.

She opened the door, not very surprised when she realized it was unlocked. She glanced at Warren one last time and said, "Five minutes."

Brown eyes met black. "Five minutes," he agreed, nodding once.

* * *

She had lost sight of Warren for two seconds- two seconds!- and everything went to hell, straight out of Dante's _Inferno_.

Gwen Grayson and multiple Pennies managed to corner her while she was still wondering where Warren had wandered off. Layla knew that Gwen wasn't _as_ perfect thought she was, but never did she think she might be pure evil on the inside. That was, until Gwen showed her true, snarling colors.

Apparently, Will knew all about her crush, and that her dating Warren was one big ruse. Even worse, he had purposely been avoiding her all this time because he just felt so bad for her.

He saw her and actually had the nerve to play nice, but she couldn't stomach it. She ran past him, intending to run out of the room, but before she could, she spotted Warren avoiding people in a small corner of the kitchen. She turned sharply without thinking, her thoughts of bolting left far from her mind.

Warren raised his eyebrows when he saw her, and the surprise turned into confusion when he saw the look of hurt and anger on her face. "What's-"

"Just go with it," she said, pushing past a group of Supers and grabbing a fistful of his shirt. She dragged him down to meet her, and kissed him with as much passion as she could muster.

This kiss was different from their others, because she was just so damned aggravated and angry. She dug her fingers into his scalp and pressed her body flush against his, trying her best to take out all her frustrations on somebody else. For his part, Warren was doing a pretty good job at making sure she accomplished her goal.

His one hand rested on the small of her back, and the other gripped her waist, unconsciously tracing her hipbone. The tightly coiled sensation in her stomach nearly tripled, and she was so absorbed in just pissing Will off that she finally stopped fighting the urge and let go.

It was perfectly natural for her to deepen the kiss, especially when he opened his mouth, biting down lightly on her bottom lip and toying with it. She tried in vain to press her body even closer to his own, craving the sensation of her curves against his lean muscle.

Her tongue tangled with his, and she might have whimpered when his hand moved from the small of her back, up, under the cotton of her jacket and t-shirt, following the line of her spine. She must've, because his hands stilled for a few seconds, and then slid back down and repeated the motion, drawing a definite whimper out of her the second time.

"Layla? Where did she- _Layla?!_"

Godda- Thank God Will got here before she did something dumb.

Yeah. Right.

Layla broke away from Warren, slightly panting, and turned to see Will standing in the kitchen doorway, yet again rendered speechless. She looked back at Warren and said, her voice low, "I think maybe we should get going. I've never had a thing for parties like this."

Warren's eyes drifted over to Will, and then snapped back to her. "Yeah," he said, his breathing a little more irregular than usual. "Me neither."

**

* * *

**

"So… word on the street is, you made out with Warren at the Supers' big bash at Will's house. Got any comments?"

Layla shot Magenta a dry look. She could handle her best friend's dry sense of humor, but she could be a little quieter, especially on the bus. They sat next to one another on one of the two-seaters in the back, fairly far away from Will and his new Super buddies. She made sure to return the favor and avoid Will like the plague, but he'd already tried to get her attention once this morning, and classes hadn't even started yet.

"Will has changed a lot since he started dating Gwen," Layla replied, gnawing on her bottom lip thoughtfully. She needed to be very careful how she phrased her response, even if she was talking to Magenta. "I didn't realize how much he'd changed until Gwen came up to me last night and explained that he didn't want a damned thing to do with me. And, afterwards, I may have gotten a little angry and I may have had an outburst and included Warren in my overreaction."

Magenta stared at her for several seconds, studying her expression for any signs of weakness. "What did I tell you yesterday?" she finally asked, speaking very slowly, narrowing her kohl-lined eyes into slits.

"I know," Layla said, trying not to sound defensive. "I didn't mean to! I just couldn't believe Will had really changed into this person I couldn't even recognize, and I didn't know what to do and then I saw Warren and I remember thinking about everything that's happened this week and all I wanted to do was just rub it in Will's face."

Magenta snorted derisively and turned back to face the front of the bus. "Not shit," she mumbled under her breath, "I just wanna know what happens when you start falling for the other guy and wondering what the hell to do now."

It was hard not to think about the belly flips and that whimper he'd elicited out of her the night before, but Layla was determined not to think along those lines. She was not attracted to Warren. He was merely… a means to an end.

Okay, that wasn't true. That was callous and a pretty bald-faced lie, because she really liked Warren as a friend, especially when he was being nice and not burning things to a crisp. There was just no chance she was ever going to _fall_ for him. She was in love with Will!

At least, she _thought_ she was…

"Gahh," Layla moaned, tilting her head against the plastic-covered seat, and trying vainly not to scream in frustration. "Why does everything have to be so complicated all the time?"

Magenta chuckled, and Layla could've sworn her eyes flickered over, in the briefest of seconds, to where a tall, lanky blonde was sitting next to his nerdy, black friend. "It's high school," she said, pushing a piece of brown and purple hair out of her eyes. "What do you expect?"

"I don't know," Layla replied helplessly. "Maybe a user's manual? You think they have something like that for girls who are so hopelessly in love with their best friends that they are willing to pretend to date the guy everyone is terrified of, and then use him mercilessly, even though she's friends with him and really doesn't want to make an even bigger mess of things than they already are?"

"Layla, if there _was_ a user's manual, I can tell you right here and now that there is not a snowball's chance in a CAT scan(1) that they would ever attempt to explain such a convoluted and harebrained scheme."

The redhead sighed, glancing out the window as they made a safe, albeit bumpy landing on Sky High ground. "Yeah, I thought as much."

**

* * *

**

If the rumormongers had been raring the past few days before, they were in full force as she, Magenta, Zach, and Ethan walked through the wide double-doors of Sky High. All around her, voices lowered, people whispered, and everyone stared at the girl who'd had the nerve to kiss Warren Peace and live.

She went on with her day like nothing happened, even when a tall, super-skinny Goth girl accidentally-on purpose slammed into her in the hallway and shot her a death glare. When Layla looked over at Magenta for an explanation, she just rolled her eyes and shrugged.

"Villainess. They all think the hot bad guys belong to them."

That didn't make even a silver of sense in Layla's mind, but she did notice, after that incident, that a lot of the 'bad' girls seemed to be glaring at her pretty hard.

As a general rule, Layla decided she would spend today not going out of her way to find Warren. After one very hectic week, he deserved the chance to breathe and chill out. Hell, she deserved the chance to breathe and chill out. This really was getting to be too convoluted for her tastes. She wasn't that complicated or dramatic of a girl for this to be her kind of thing.

She never expected to see Warren going out of his way to find her.

Layla was coming back from her 5th period class in the gym, and she had stopped at her locker to toss in her gym clothes and grab her notebooks for 6th and 7th period. She had just enough time to shut her locker door when she heard a menacing, "Move," and watched as at least half a dozen freshmen scattered.

She couldn't stop the wry smile from ghosting across her face, nor the disapproving glare as Warren shot them one last glower and walked over to her.

"You just can't help yourself sometimes, can you?" she asked, arching slender eyebrows at her retreating classmates. Dropping all pretences, she leaned her head against her locker and said, "You can stop pretending to date me now."

Warren looked confused. She didn't blame him. On the inside, she was floored. All day, she had been secretly toying with the idea of calling everything off, this time for good. After all, why bother? It was clear that Will didn't want to talk to her ever again, so trying to convince him to love her was simply out of the question.

"What?"

Layla pushed the end of her braid over her shoulder and shrugged. "It's for the best," she said, "Will obviously doesn't like me that way, Gwen Grayson hates my guts, and I just can't keep accosting you and pretending that it's perfectly normal. It's just better if I give up now, while I'm still behind, instead of wallowing in even more misery and self-pity."

Similar to before, all she got back was an eye roll. Then, as though something had caught his attention, Warren leaned over her shoulder and stared down the hallway. Layla turned to see what he was staring at (and simultaneously hoping that it wasn't Will), but was stopped yet again by Warren dragging her to him.

She was getting so used to this tap-and-dance routine that she didn't even have to think. Her arms wound round his neck, eyes slipping closed as he easily parted her lips, his tongue snaking into her mouth to dance with her own. And, as before, there was the twisting in her stomach, and the tightening of her muscles, coupled with the relaxing sensation of calm in her brain. She needed to stop doing this, because, otherwise, she might start to become addicted.

The kiss lasted a lot shorter than she would have liked, with Warren the one pulling away. Her eyes were still half closed, heavy lidded and content, like a cat with its bowl of cream.

"You know, hippie, I don't actually mind it all that much when you accost me." His voice was deep and gravelly again, and she realized dimly that his change in voice might be a sign that she had as much affect on him as he had on her.

"And if you want proof of that, you can see that Stronghold isn't anywhere near us."

Wait- what?

Layla's eyes flew open, and she glanced around the semi-crowded hallway. Oh, there were quite a number of people openly staring at them, but not one of them was her red-white-and-blue-wearing best friend. So Warren hadn't been kidding with her. He had kissed her, with not a (important) witness to be found. So that meant…

Everything suddenly crashed around her like a ton of bricks, one realization hitting her after the other. She probably looked shell-shocked and confused, and above all, a complete mess. None of this was what she had expected.

"Are you working again tonight?"

It was a stupid question, one of which she already knew the answer. But it was still partly a relief when Warren flashed The Smirk and replied, "I work every night. Except Sundays."

Layla brushed stray strands of hair out of her face and smiled slightly, trying to make it seem like her mind wasn't reeling. "I don't know if I can, but don't be surprised if I stop by the Lantern tonight. Not sure if I am, just be prepared." She flashed him an uncertain smile, and then hightailed it the hell out of there.

She had some major thinking to do.

$4$

Whew. I'm almost done, and it's… 1 in the morning on a Monday. Yaaay.

All the time, I just continue to amaze myself with the crap I'm able to whip up. It's really coming along nicely, and I'm about 90 percent sure that the 'last' chapter I've had (mostly) finished since the beginning is going to be this next chapter. So it's almost done.

Thank God.

This means I can finally get some sleep, and finally start finishing Chapter 4 of _How to Hit Rock Bottom_, along with finishing the… 8 or so unfinished one-shots, three-shots, and multis I've got in the works. Crap, I need to find an age-appropriate fandom.

Oh, and, before I forget, the one quick note I made because I'm a huge dork and couldn't resist:

(1): "Not a snowball's chance in a CAT scan" is a very dorky quote from NBC's Monday night sitcom, _Big Bang Theory_. For those who are familiar with it, Sheldon proves (yet again) why it is a bad idea to be a child genius with no people skills and own a hamster. Or, at very least, know how to build your very own CAT scan machine.

Dedicated to my own Big Bang Theory, of course, because that TV show isn't funny enough without me having my own living version of it to witness and laugh at every day.


	4. Talking Permanent

I know I've always been a Night Writer (as I like to call myself) but I've never attempted this level of craziness in writing. I swear to God, I think I logged a total 8 to 10 hours of missed sleep, just working on this puppy.

At least, this way, it's inspired me to work on _HtHRB_. Plus, there's this M-rated, threeshot fic I started that I'd like to finish- the first chapter, at very least.

Anyway, I really like this, as far as short, chaptered stories go, and I'm really happy you guys felt the same. :) Good to know none of you are planning on giving up on me anytime soon.

$4$

_Well, I got nothin' to hide  
__Dip down and come for a ride  
__Embrace the devil so sly, you cannot hear him coming  
_'_Cuz my defenses are weak, I have no breath left to speak  
__So take the evidence and bury it somewhere._

-"Little of Your Time," by Maroon 5

**

* * *

**

There were some very important things Layla needed to figure out.

Magenta was the only person who knew everything. She was, after all, Layla's best (female) friend. Magenta understood all that was going on, and Layla was happy to have someone to unload her concerns. And, when she wasn't generally acting like a basket case, she would sit down and listen to Mage vent about how annoying Zach was and why did he have to keep staring at her like that in the middle of class?

Her friend's troubles were so much easier to sort out.

But this… this was catastrophic. Which was why, as soon as she got home, she called Magenta. If there was ever a time to talk to Magenta, this was it. She still wasn't totally certain, but there was aver, very slight chance that maybe, just maybe, she was losing interest in Will… and gaining interest in someone she definitely shouldn't.

The second Layla heard that familiar click of someone picking up the phone, she jumped off of her bed and her fingers through her hair. This was making her jumpy, and there was nothing more she wanted than to tell someone about it.

"What's up, Layla?"

Layla couldn't stop the groan from making it past her lips. Cradling the phone in the crook of her neck and shoulder, she rubbed her eyes with the heels of her palms and said, "Mage, I think… Crap. You were right."

Magenta was silent for several beats, and finally, she heard her sigh across the receiver. "Shit."

The redhead chuckled and rolled her eyes. "Tell me about it," she replied, staring into her bedroom mirror.

"So… Hothead feel the same way?"

She really had to think hard about that one. Did he? Well, he certainly wasn't avoiding her. And didn't tell her _not_ to show up at the Paper Lantern tonight. And he _definitely_ never seemed to mind it when they kissed. Last to she checked, those were all positive signs.

But then again, what did she know about guys? She'd been in love with her best friend for half her life, and she wasn't even entirely sure he recognized her as female.

"I think he does…" Layla mumbled, gathering her hair back in a ponytail and turning her head to either side, considering the style.

"What are you gonna do about it? What about Will?"

Without consciously intending to, Layla felt a tug on her heartstrings and guilt wash over her features. What about Will? She had almost completely forgotten to consider him in this equation, and that wasn't fair. He was still her best friend, even if he was being a little bit of a tool at the moment.

And she could forget that. She'd known him since they were in diapers.

"I honestly don't know what to say to Will, but I do love him. I'm just starting to think I'm not _in_ love with him, y'know?" Layla said, dropping her hair and tucking it behind her ears.

"I've figured that much out," Magenta replied drily, and Layla rolled her eyes again. Mage could be just a little too sarcastic sometimes.

"So… what should I do?" Layla asked, tugging off her t-shirt and sliding out of her flower-covered skirt.

"I don't know," Magenta said, "What do you want to do? It's not like you can tackle Warren without him suspecting that you're doing this for your little audience. You can always tell him, I guess, but Warren never struck me as the talkative type."

"No, you wouldn't think, but Warren's a real intellectual. He reads about a book a day, sometimes more, and he's a big fan of great writers, like Kierkegaard and Tolstoy," she said this all absentmindedly, opening up her closet doors and rifling through her clothes. "He's smarter than me. I could talk to him, I just don't know what to say."

"Actions speak louder than words."

Layla looked up from her closet, but she wasn't looking at anything in particular. She was thinking. She knew exactly what she needed to do, and she knew exactly what she needed to wear.

She exchanged distracted goodbyes with Magenta, and hung up the phone, tossing it halfheartedly behind her and began rifling through her closet with renewed vigor. This might just work. Maybe.

Now she just needed to find that one, little black and green dress for her cousin's wedding…

Awesome.

**

* * *

**

"Warren!" Layla called out, walking a little faster down the sidewalk. It was getting pretty late, already past closing at the Lantern, and the cool September weather was giving hints of what was to come for winter. She was beginning to regret leaving the house without a jacket.

But she wasn't regretting the dress. Black, with forest green belt, and hitting her just above the knees. She had black heels, but she wasn't going to run down the street in them, so she settled for black flats.

Warren turned around when he heard call, dark eyebrows knitted in confusion. "Layla?" he asked. "What are you doing here now?"

Layla half-jogged up to him, her breathing a little harder than normal. Staring up at him, she said, "I'm settling something." She dragged his head down to meet hers and kissed him.

She knew he was shocked from the way his muscled bunched up tightly under his thin black t-shirt, but he responded pretty quickly, pulling her into his arms and tilting his head so he could kiss her at a better angle.

She had come here to prove a point to herself, but within a matter of seconds, that had flown out the window. It was just too easy for her to get distracted when they kissed. That was probably another sign.

Her arms were winding around his neck, and she had the sudden and indescribable urge to wrap her legs around his waist.

Warren broke the kiss first, and she was pretty surprised to see him looking so angry. "What the hell was that for?" he demanded, glaring down at her.

Layla didn't miss how deep and gravelly his voice had turned, and that fact that he was having a little trouble breathing evenly. Cocking an eyebrow, Layla responded, "I believe it's called kissing."

He stepped away from her, almost as though he was afraid to be too near to her. She just stared back at him, watching calmly as he ran a very frustrated hand through his hair- still pulled back in a bun- and then, without any real warning, grabbed her by the arms and pushed her up against the wall.

Layla's eyebrows shot up as he planted an arm on either side of her, effectively locking her in place. She wasn't used to being manhandled by guys. Will was too much of a gentleman to ever think of doing such a thing, and no other guy knew her well enough to try. The fact that Warren Peace was so comfortable doing so caused her to shiver with anticipation.

"Look, hippie," he said, his voice hard and still pretty breathless. "I'm not the good guy. I'm not like Will. I'm not good at playing nice, or being nice, or even being social. I don't like small talk, I don't like my personal space being invaded, and I don't like your friends. But the thing I dislike the most is when someone tries to take away something that I want, or feel as though is mine in any way, shape or form."

She should not have felt as attracted to him as she did in that moment. Even though it was misogynistic and sexist, there was a small part of her that liked his possessive tone.

"That's why you need to decide right now," he said, his tone deadly serious. "Either you knock off all this impromptu kissing and finally leave me the hell alone, or-" He stopped there.

Layla smirked. It was that same smile she had taken from him, and it was worth it, just to see the muscles clench in his jaw and neck. "Or what?" she said, her voice a teasing lilt.

He didn't say anything, just continued to stare at her, locking and unlocking his jaw.

She was getting tired of the games. It was kind of fun to mess with Warren, but she was right; she needed to give him an answer.

Leaning forward, she closed the distanced between their mouths and really kissed him. She heard him groan as he kissed her back, pushing her further against the wall and wrapping his arms around her.

The kiss was hot and passionate, and nothing at all like she would have ever expected from either one of them. Her hands were in his hair, their tongues fighting for dominance as his hands gripped her hips.

Before she knew it, Warren had effortlessly picked her up, keeping her snugly wedged between him and the wall and giving her the opportunity to wrap her legs around his lean, toned waist, just like she had thought about not five minutes before.

After several minutes of heated kissing that felt like hours, Layla finally was the one to break the kiss. She rested the back of her head against the brick wall, panting slightly. Warren tilted his head, resting in the crook of her neck as he placed small kisses against her collarbone.

Layla sighed in contentment, and shut her eyes, happy to lose herself in the sensations. After a few more minutes, she mumbled, still breathless, "Hey… Warren?"

He was busy doing some very interesting things involving this one spot where her ear met her jaw, so he sounded annoyed when he asked, "What, hippie?"

"Can we do this more often?"

He stopped whatever lovely things he had been doing and pulled away, looking her in the eye. "What does that mean?" he asked slowly, making it sound like a warning.

Layla smiled down at him through heavy lidded eyes and shifted her grip around his waist. "I mean," she said, slowly, "I want this to be permanent."

Warren looked suspicious. "Permanent," he repeated.

"Permanent," she said, looping her fingers absentmindedly through his hair, which was mostly falling out of its bun. When he didn't immediately respond, she added, "If only to see the look on Stronghold's face, one last time."

Warren smirked and kissed her. He couldn't argue with that.

$4$

Yes, I am aware that this chapter, in comparison to the rest and what you're probably used to seeing from me, is painfully short. But know this: I can't write anymore. I love you all, but this is it.

I think this is a pretty decent ending, and I'm happy I finished it in less than two weeks, more or less. There are a few ties I wanted to include, but the plot (and my muse) just wouldn't allow me. Maybe I'll include an Epilogue later on, but I have other things I want to finish before I add more to this.

I actually wrote the last part first, mostly because I write about 95-percent of my kissing scenes at night. Don't ask me why, that's just when I'm most creative and relaxed. Even if it is at a ridiculous hour (I basically stayed up all night writing this, so you had damned well like it, readers!). Crap. Now I have to go to bed and sleep the rest of the day away.

Yeah. That's totally functional.

I really hope you enjoyed this (short) fic! :D


End file.
